Each Day That Breaks
by Muffy Morrigan
Summary: Dean is injured on a hunt, and what seems minor suddenly spirals into a life-threatening illness. Sam has an answer, but the solution could cost both their lives. Hurt!Dean. Angsty Protective Sam. Not Death fic. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: May 18 marks more than just the anniversary of Mt. St. Helens. It's also my ten month anniversary on fanfic, and I realized I just passed the half a million posted words mark, so I thought I'd celebrate with a story. The last two anniversary stories were hurt Sam, this one, for 500,000 words, had to be hurt Dean. I planned on a one-shot, but it was a little long and had a nice break, so I decided to post as two chapters. They're both here, so no cliffhanger to wait on. Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing and all your support over the months! Special thanks to beta Abni and Dennis. Title and quote come from Horace's _Epistles. _Set Season Two, after "Playthings." Not Death Fic!_

**Each Day That Breaks**

**Chapter One**

_Inter spem curamque, timores inter et iras  
omnen crede diem tibi diluxisse supremem:  
grata superveniet quae non sperabitur hora.  
--Horace_

The sun was setting, one of those truly spectacular sunsets that only the West seems to have. The clouds moved from a gentle tangerine, to pink, to bright orange, finally to a deep red streaked with charcoal. The sun had been shining off and on all day with storm clouds threatening a sudden downpour. The highway had been mostly empty, only the occasional semi passing the Impala. It was almost like they were alone in the world, just the Impala drifting down the highway, the changing music on the stereo and the sun and clouds, nothing else. Emptiness, vast emptiness.

The tape ended with a click, Sam yanked his attention back to the car and the road. _I hope I didn't run anyone over. _He glanced around, the broken hills rose around him like ancient castles tinged with the blood of the setting sun. He punched the tape out of the stereo and dug around in the box for another.

"What are you putting on?" Dean asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Uh." Sam looked at the tape. "It looks like a mix tape. It says Dean's number one?"

"Good choice." Dean sighed softly, and shifted. "How long till we stop?"

"About twenty minutes. I saw a sign."

"Okay."

Sam focused back on the road. "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath gave way to "Cowboys from Hell" by Pantera, Sam frowned at the stereo but didn't turn it down. He opened his window a tiny crack, the rush of air muffled the guitar a little. He sighed. A group of pronghorn antelope were walking along the fence beside the road. _Antilocapra Americana,_ his mind dredged the name up. He smiled. _"Only member of its species on earth, Sam, remember that," his father said every time they saw the animals. _Sam chuckled to himself, it had a slightly bitter sound. _Yeah, dad, and you said school would fill my head with useless information? When is that tidbit ever going to be important? _

The exit he'd been looking for came up and he steered the car down the steep ramp. Several minutes later he pulled up in front of the hotel. He checked to make sure Dean was still asleep and walked into the office. The pretty clerk looked up when he walked in, a bright smile on her face. "Hi, Sheila," he said, reading her name tag. "I had reservations."

"Great! Your name?"

"Sam Osborne."

"Deluxe double king suite?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome! How long will you be staying?"

"I'm not sure, probably several days at least." Sam signed the registration and she handed him the key cards, he looked at them with a smile. _We usually don't stay at hotels with key cards. _He walked back to the car and slid quietly into the seat. Following the directions Sheila had handed him with the keys, he pulled up in front of their room. Sam grabbed their bags out of the trunk and carried them into the room. It was on the ground floor, at the end of the building. Sam opened the curtains and looked at the view, a huge sweep of land, miles of red earth and sparse vegetation, finally running into a huge red and black mountain.

With a sigh he turned from the view. He checked through the room quickly, the kitchen had a full-size fridge and oven, a microwave and a toaster oven. There was china in the cupboards and silverware in the drawer. All sparkling like it was brand new. _Good. This will do. _He grabbed some clothes, dropped them in the bathroom and turned on the water in the spa tub, fussing for a minute to make sure the temperature was right. As he sat on the edge of the tub, he put his head in trembling hands, fighting the ache in his chest, the lump in his throat that made breathing difficult. He scrubbed the tears off his face, ran his hands through his hair and stood.

Sam walked back through the room, pasting a bright smile on his face. He grabbed one of the chairs from the table and used it to prop open the door. After making sure it wouldn't close, he walked out to the car and opened the passenger door.

"Dean?" Sam put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"We there?"

"Yeah." Sam pulled the blanket off Dean and tossed it into the driver's seat.

"Good. How's the room?"

"Not bad," Sam said as he gently swung Dean's legs out of the car.

"The one last night smelled weird."

"I know. That'll teach me to get a room at Red's Place."

"Told you."

"Yeah, you did. Ready?" he asked as he pulled Dean's arm over his shoulders and slipped his arm around Dean's waist. Dean nodded and Sam pulled him up, then waited as Dean sagged against him, trembling, his head turned against Sam's shoulder, teeth grinding together audibly.

With a deep breath Dean stood up, most of his weight still balanced on Sam, eyes tightly closed, tears running down his cheeks. "Let's go."

"Sure." Sam helped Dean into the bathroom, setting him down on the chair by the tub.

Dean opened his eyes as Sam turned off the water. "Is that a Jacuzzi?" Dean asked.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I thought…" He swallowed.

"Good idea, Sammy. Love a Jacuzzi." Dean looked out the door at the room. "This is a really nice room."

"Yeah, two kings, full kitchen, Jacuzzi, private patio, thirty-two inch plasma TV, DVD player."

"Not the kind of place where they chain up the remotes."

"No," Sam said with a smile.

"Well, at least I'll die in style."

**Several Days Earlier**

The sun lit the landscape, the flat light of mid-day creating a shimmering mirage covering the barren landscape with the gentle ripples of a silver lake. The soft haze in the air was caused not by water, but by drifting dust particles, little bits of the land tossed in the air by the passage of the Impala. Sam glanced out the window, back towards the archaeological dig they had just left, the haze was thicker there, the dust hanging over the excavation like a blanket.

"Why are we out here again?" Dean asked, grabbing the bottle of water off the seat.

"Because a friend of mine called and asked for help," Sam answered. "And he's paying us."

"Paying us is good." Dean grinned, then looked over at Sam with a frown. "Why did he call you? How does he know…?"

"What we do?" Sam smiled. _You really don't want to know, Dean, trust me. _"I met him through a friend that did a field school."

"Field school?"

"He went out on a dig and worked for the summer. Kevin was one of the staff."

"That still doesn't explain how he knows what we do, Sammy."

Sam shrugged. "There was an incident I helped him with."

"Incident? What does that mean?" Dean's frown deepened.

"Nothing." Sam shrugged again. _Just let it go, Dean, I'm not telling you. All you'd do is frown and lecture._

"Sam…"

"That's our turn, Dean." Sam pointed at an upcoming dirt road. "He said that's where the burial was."

"I was there too." Dean turned the car down the road. It slowly narrowed until it stopped at the edge of an arroyo. Dean parked the Impala, and they got out. They scouted around the site with the EMF meter, getting several strong readings. "They took the body?" Dean asked as they stopped at the edge of a trench running across the site and down into the arroyo.

"He said they excavated it." Sam frowned at the meter. "There's something here." Sam hopped down into the trench. "It's strongest here."

"We got hits all over the site."

"Yeah, but it's strongest here." Sam dug around in the loose dirt with his toes. "There are some bones, they must have left them…"

"When they panicked and ran?" Dean grinned down at him. "I'll get the stuff, be right back." Dean disappeared and returned a minute later with the box of salt, can of gas and matches. He dropped down beside Sam. "I want to check out a couple of those other spots. Can you handle this?"

"I'm pretty sure I can handle it, Dean," Sam said, handing him the EMF meter.

"Okay, I'll meet you back at the car."

Sam smiled as he watched his brother wander down the trench and into the arroyo. "Don't get lost."

"Bite me," Dean's voice drifted back to him.

Sam grinned and poured the salt over the bones. _Not really good for an archaeological site. _He pulled himself out of the trench before lighting them. They flared briefly, then died out with an odd _poof _of black smoke. _That's strange. Never seen anything like that before. _Sam walked back to the car, dropped the salt and gas can back into the trunk and leaned on the car, letting the breeze cool him off. He wandered around the site, looking for any other evidence that might have led to the hauntings. Sam stopped in the shade of a small tree, enjoying the brief respite from the heat, he closed his eyes with a happy sigh. An odd noise caused him to open his eyes. "Dean?" He looked around, his brother was nowhere to be seen. "Dean?" he called louder.

No answer.

He jogged back to the trench and followed it down to the arroyo. His brother's footprints were clear in the sand of the dry streambed. Sam noticed that Dean's footprints led up the bank of the arroyo. He followed them to the top and looked around. "Dean?" he shouted, his voice echoing in the empty landscape. "Dean!" A small alarm was ringing in his head, not panic. _Not yet. He's fine. He's just following a lead. _Sam followed Dean's footprints along the edge of the bank, glancing down at the dry streambed below for any sign of his brother. "Dean!"

A small striped lizard shot out from under a juniper, dashing across the landscape. A family of quail skittered under a yucca, Sam heard a raven calling from the mesa in front of him. "Dean!" Something caught Sam's eye. Dean had stopped and paced around in a circle. Sam looked closer at the ground, a broken piece of pottery lay in the center of the circle. "Dean!" Sam shouted as he went back to following Dean's footprints. The alarm had finally given way to panic. Sam spotted a small indentation ahead of him. The path he was following led towards it. He turned from the edge of the arroyo, but something in the streambed below caught his eye.

A body.

"Dean!" Sam looked over the edge, Dean lay sprawled, unmoving, on the ground below. "Dean!" Sam slid down the bank and ran to his brother. He quickly ran his hands along Dean's arms and legs, making sure nothing was broken. "Dean?"

"Sam?" Dean groaned.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Dean said as he tried to turn over. Sam grabbed his arm and eased him onto his back. Dean had a small gash on his head, blood trickling down his face.

"What happened?"

Dean frowned as he sat up, Sam put one hand on his back to support him. "I'm not sure. I fell."

"You fell?" Sam stood and pulled Dean to his feet.

"Yeah, I was following something. The EMF freaked out on me, then…huh…" He looked at Sam. "Then…"

"Then?"

Dean frowned. "Let me think, Sammy." They walked slowly towards the car. Sam was watching Dean out of the corner of his eye. His brother's movements were uncoordinated, clumsy. He was dragging his feet in the sand as they walked. "Then…" Dean stopped at the trunk. "Then…" He fumbled with the keys.

"I'll drive, Dean." Sam took the keys from his brother. Dean wandered to the passenger seat and dropped in without another word. "Dean?" Sam looked over as he slid behind the wheel.

"I'm thinking, Sam."

"Don't hurt yourself."

"Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam answered, relief flooding over him. _See? All that panic was unnecessary, he's fine, just a bump on the head. We'll stop and get dinner. Food and a shower and he'll be fine in the morning._

The sound of the bathroom door slamming woke Sam. After a steak dinner, Dean seemed better. They returned to the room and settled in for the night, Sam surfed the net looking for another hunt. Dean crashed on the bed to watch "Heavy Metal." When Sam glanced at his brother around ten, Dean was sound asleep. Sam turned off the television and grabbed a book, an hour of quiet reading without the TV was a rare occasion, not to be wasted. He'd fallen asleep within half an hour, the words blurring together on the page as the book dropped to his chest.

Sam sat up, the book falling off his chest. He glanced at Dean's bed and reached to turn the lamp off. The sounds of violent retching stopped him. He walked to the door. "Dean?" The retching continued. Sam opened the door, Dean was huddled against the toilet, shivering. Sam grabbed a washcloth, wet it and crouched down beside his brother, placing the washcloth on Dean's neck.

"Thanks," Dean muttered several minutes later. "Dinner didn't agree with me, I guess."

Sam smiled. "I'm not surprised. Think you can get up?"

Dean nodded and let Sam pull him to his feet. "I'm okay." Dean walked towards the door, he stopped and leaned a hand on the doorframe. "I'm okay," he repeated, before Sam could say anything.

_Yeah, I'm believing that less and less. _Sam walked behind Dean, his brother seemed unsteady on his feet. Dean dropped onto the bed with s groan. "Is there a coke?"

"Sure." Sam grabbed a can out of the small fridge and handed it to Dean. "I think we should get you checked out tomorrow, Dean. You were unconscious when I found you, and now nausea? You could have a concussion."

"Doesn't feel like one," Dean said as he stretched out on the bed. "It's just bad food."

Sam sank onto the bed and put a hand on Dean's forehead, his brother batted it away. "No fever, your pupils look okay, but I still think we should…"

"I'm fine, Sammy. Go back to bed, sorry I woke you. I feel better now." Dean closed his eyes, when Sam didn't move Dean opened one eye and looked at him. "Go away, I'm fine."

"Right," Sam huffed. He paced over to his bed. _He's fine, it was just steak, onions, fries, whipped cream, apple pie, beer…_Sam stopped himself, he an odd sense of impending doom. He looked over at Dean, his brother's hand was clenched around the remote so tightly Sam could see his knuckles. "Dean?"

"I'm okay," Dean said through clenched teeth. "Go to sleep."

_Fine, Dean. You're going to the nearest clinic in the morning. _Sam picked up his book and settled down to read, keeping an eye on Dean until his brother went to sleep.

"I'm okay, Sam," Dean said as he put a hand on the table, steadying himself as they were leaving the motel.

"Yeah." _Right._

"I'm okay, Sam," Dean said when he grabbed the table at breakfast and closed his eyes for several seconds.

"Yeah." _Uh huh, as soon as I see a clinic we're pulling off._

"I'm okay, Sam," Dean said when they stopped to get gas and he disappeared to the bathroom for five minutes.

"Yeah." _Next town is fifty miles. We're stopping no matter what._

"I'm okay, Sam," Dean said as they were leaving the diner and his legs buckled for a moment. Sam grabbed him. Dean leaned against Sam for a minute, trembling, his eyes closed.

"Yeah." _Fifty miles. _

"I'm okay, Sam," Dean said as he pushed a tape into the stereo with a shaking hand.

"Yeah." _Twenty miles, only twenty miles. I saw a hospital sign._

"Sam! Take the wheel!" Dean shouted five minutes later. Sam reacted to the order without thinking. Dean pitched to the side, banging his head against the window, his muscles contracting. Sam slid across the seat, got his foot on the brake and pulled the car off the road.

"Dean!" _He's having a seizure. _"Dean!" Sam pulled Dean against him, trying to keep his brother from hurting himself. It ended as abruptly as it began. Dean relaxed against him. "Dean?" Sam shook him. "Dean?"

"Cold," Dean whispered.

"Okay," Sam opened his door and got out, then pulled Dean across the seat. He grabbed a blanket from the back seat and tucked it carefully around Dean.

"I'm not okay, Sammy," Dean said as Sam pulled the car back onto the highway.

"Yeah." _You think? No shit, Dean.._

Sam paced across the room. Twenty-nine steps to the window, turn, twelve steps to the wall by the door, turn, thirty-nine steps to the desk in the center of the ER and back again. They'd arrived five hours before. The ER waiting room had been crowded, and Sam feared a long wait. _Leave it to Dean to hurry it along. _His brother had collapsed as the nurse was taking his blood pressure. They'd been whisked back, a doctor seeing them almost immediately. Then the long round of testing had begun. Blood draw, EKG, CAT scan, Dean was currently getting an MRI, since they could find nothing to explain his increasing pain, loss of consciousness and seizures.

"Mr. Osborne?"

"Doc? How's my brother?"

The doctor shook his head. "We're admitting him for further observation."

"Did you find anything?"

"We need to run further tests. They are taking him to his room, you can wait there, if you like."

"Thank you, but doctor…"

"We'll know more in a little while." The doctor left before Sam could ask another question.

"Thank you," Sam said to the doctor's back. _Well, that's helpful. Why can't they ever say they don't know? Further tests. Yeah, and what will they show? Nothing! _Sam was beginning to suspect Dean's symptoms were supernatural in origin. _They came on so quickly, there's nothing wrong with his head. Nothing they can find. _Sam asked for Dean's room number, stopped by the Impala to get his laptop bag and then headed to Dean's room.

"What took you so long?" Dean asked, his voice raspy and weak.

_Oh god, Dean. _Dean had dark circles under his eyes, his hands were visibly trembling where they rested on the blanket. An IV snaked its way into his arm, a tube ran under his nose, a heart monitor beeped softly behind the bed. "Stopped by the car to get the computer and dad's journal," Sam said, sitting in the chair beside the bed.

"Looking for a new hunt? Good idea."

"No, I thought I'd see if I could find out what was wrong with you." Sam set the computer on the tray and opened their father's journal.

"You think you can find something?" Dean's voice had a sarcastic edge to it. "No one else can."

"They aren't looking where I will. I think this is supernatural. Something happened to you before you fell, Dean. You said the EMF freaked out."

"Sam…"

"You know what Sherlock Holmes said?" Sam looked at his brother.

Dean sighed. "I bet you're going to tell me."

"When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains no matter how improbable is the answer."

"That actually makes sense." Dean smiled. "I trust you more than the doctors anyway. Can you hand me the remote? It fell off."

"Sure." Sam handed Dean the remote and leaned back in the chair, flipping through the journal and another reference book he'd acquired. Dean was watching a "Scooby Doo" marathon, chuckling softly every time Velma uttered a "jinkies."

"Sammy," Dean called out in a strangled voice. Sam looked up as the seizure started, grabbing his brother's outstretched hand. The heart monitor was beeping wildly as air was forcibly expelled from Dean's lungs. "Hurts."

"I know."

"Sorry," Dean said as the spasms stopped.

"It's okay, Dean," Sam said, watching Dean brush the tears off his face with his free hand.

"Yeah." Dean shifted, but didn't let go of Sam's hand. "I can feel them coming on. I get a little shock in my head right before they start."

"How long were they going on?"

Dean shrugged. "The one in the car was the first bad one. I'd had a couple little ones, but mostly dizzy spells before that."

"You don't seem to be having as many."

"No, but they hurt more." Dean looked at Sam. "My heart feels funny too, kind of, I don't know, fluttery."

"The pain's getting worse, isn't it?" Sam asked without needing an answer.

Dean grimaced. "Nah."

"Uh huh." _You are lying to me, Dean._

"Have you found anything?"

"Nothing yet," Sam said, flipping through the reference book one handed. "I need to get onto the internet…"

"They probably have wifi in the cafeteria."

"Yeah…" _But that means I have to leave. _

"Sam? I'll be okay, better now than later." Dean smiled his lopsided smile. "Bring me back a coffee."

"Dean."

"Go, just don't be gone too long, okay?"

"Yeah." Sam gave Dean's hand a squeeze, grabbed his laptop and headed towards the cafeteria. He ordered himself a latte, sat down and opened the computer. Rather than surfing for the information and reading it there, he started saving pages to the desktop so he could research in Dean's room. After half an hour of work he headed back.

A doctor was standing beside Dean's bed when Sam reached the room. He turned as Sam entered. "I'm Dr. Bilagody," he said with a smile.He was tall with native features, wearing a heavy turquoise and silver bracelet on one wrist.

"That's my brother Sammy."

"It's Sam. Have you found anything, doctor?"

"Tell him what you told me," Dean said, looking at the doctor.

"We haven't found anything," Dr. Bilagody said softly.

"Except that I'm a dead man."

"I didn't say that," the doctor chided.

"Yeah, right, I…" Dean clenched his jaw. "Sammy?" Sam grabbed Dean's hand and held it as spasms wracked his brother's body. Sam glanced at the doctor, the man was frowning in concentration. "Sam…" Dean convulsed again and relaxed, eyes closed.

"Dean?" Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"You were supposed to bring me coffee," Dean said without opening his eyes.

Sam smiled. "If the doc says it's okay, I'll run get one right now." He glanced at the doctor, the man nodded. _I know that look, it's the "it doesn't matter now" look. Shit. Dean? Hang on. _"I'll be right back." When Sam returned with the coffee, the doctor was gone and Dean had the TV turned to a "Top Model" marathon. "I'm worried now," Sam said, setting the coffee down on the tray.

"Why?" Dean looked at him with a frown.

"You're watching 'Top Model'?" Sam grinned.

"I'm watching a show about hot young model wanna bes and you're worried?" Dean shook his head with a smile. "Find anything?"

"I saved a bunch of information, I'm going to go through it now."

"Thanks, Sammy." Dean turned his attention back to the TV.

Sam shifted close enough to the bed so he was in contact with Dean and opened the laptop, sifting through the pages he'd saved. _Nothing. _Page after page was rejected. _Wait, what's that. _He opened the page he'd just closed. _Black spots? _He read through the information again. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember what happened?"

"When I fell?"

"Yeah, did all the thinking accomplish anything?"

Dean looked over at him. "I was walking along the riverbed…"

"You went up the bank."

"Yeah, I did, the EMF and I had a hunch, just a feeling, you know? The meter…" Dean stopped and held out his hand. "Here it comes."

"Dean?" Sam grabbed his brother's hand, and waited as the seizure passed.

"Those suck." Dean opened his eyes. "The meter lit up on a piece of pottery, then…huh…I heard something. I think. There was the shallow depression, the sound had come from there. The EMF freaked out. Never seen it like that. I stepped into the depression…"

"Yeah?"

"And I woke up face down in the sand."

"You don't remember falling?"

"I…" Dean closed his eyes. "I ran. I just ran, not caring where, just away. I knew I had to get away, there was something bad."

"I think I know what happened." Sam looked back at the screen. "Listen to this, it's from a doctor in Canada. 'The patient claims to have stepped into a shallow hole in the woods. Within hours after the incident severe nausea, dizzy spells, pain and lack of coordination began. Within twenty-four hours, the patient began suffering seizures, severe pain and loss of consciousness. Forty-eight hours after exposure, frequency of seizures had diminished, with an increase in severity.' "

"What does it say after that, Sam?"

"Dean…"

"Read the rest, damn it."

Sam sighed. " 'Seventy-two hours after exposure, seizures had almost disappeared. Pain increased, as well as lack of coordination.' Listen to this, Dean, it's a little further down. 'It appears as if the patient's body short-circuited, the "electrical systems" slowly malfunctioning.' There's more. The doctor investigated other similar occurrences, and he found that all the victims had stumbled into a shallow hole or depression. He researched and came up with the idea of 'black spots'."

"Black spots?"

"It's a place in the earth that holds dark forces. The concept is actually common in folklore throughout the world."

"How far did they malfunction, Sam?"

"What?"

"The patients?" Dean snapped. Sam looked away. "That bad, eh?"

"I'll figure it out, Dean."

"Can they do anything for me here?" Dean shook Sam's arm when he didn't answer. "Sammy?"

"They can control the pain."

"So that's a big fat no. We're outta here. Let's go check out."

"Dean…"

"Do it, Sam, or I'll pack up and go without you. I'm not dying here."

"You're not dying." _Oh god, Dean. _

"Yeah, I am." Dean looked at him with a smirk. "Especially if I don't get out. Get me out of here."

Sam walked to the nurses' station and spoke with the nurse on duty. She shook her head as he relayed Dean's request, finally huffing and informing Sam she would call Dean's doctor. Dean was pulling the leads of the heart monitor off when Sam got back to the room.

"What are you doing?"

"I told you, I'm leaving. Help me up." Dean held his hand out.

"Let's wait for the nurse to pull the IV, okay?"

"What's going on?" the doctor asked from the doorway.

"I'm leaving."

"We still don't know…" Dr. Bilagody said.

"You know I'm dying. So I'm not dying here. I'm leaving."

"Dean, would you just wait a minute?" Sam snapped. "Have you found anything?" he asked the doctor.

The man shook his head. "No, I'm sorry."

"Sammy found something," Dean said, turning off the IV. "Black spots, and you can't help. So, we're going."

"Black spots?" the doctor looked at Sam, meeting his eyes. "I understand. Wait a minute," he said to Dean. "Let me get the nurse before you hurt yourself. Sam, can I speak with you?" The doctor motioned Sam into the hallway. He spoke with the nurse and she went into Dean's room, then the doctor turned to Sam. "I understand," he repeated.

"You do?" Sam asked skeptically.

"I was raised…" Dr. Bilagody stopped and shrugged. "Doesn't matter, but my grandfather was a medicine man. I know about black spots. I recognized the symptoms, but most people…"

"Don't believe, yeah, I know. Is there any way to save my brother?"

The doctor was shaking his head. "I've never seen anyone survive…"

"But?" _I heard a really big but there, doc._

"There's a legend. There's a sacred spring in the mountains, it's guarded by one of the dark beings who created those spots. If a warrior can defeat the guardian and get the victim to the spring, he's released from the hold of the dark beings."

Sam looked at the doctor for a long moment. "Where's the spring?"

_**To Be Continued**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Each Day That Breaks**

**Chapter Two**

**Present**

The sun had set, darkness settling over the land in a velvet blanket. A lone red star hung over the mountain, a drop of blood in the cascade of white diamonds littering the sky. The tiny sliver of moon did nothing to hide the light of the stars. A breeze drifted from the desert, bringing an herbal-medicinal smell with it. Sam's mind identified the scent as sagebrush.

He heard the jets switch off in the tub and was up when he heard a thump from the bathroom. Sam ran across the room and pushed the door open. Dean was on the floor, trying to pull himself up by one of the safety rails on the tub. _Damn it, Dean, why didn't you call me? _Dean was swearing under his breath, tears of frustration running down his cheeks. Sam pulled him up, dropped him in the chair and handed him a towel.

"You ready for dinner?" Sam asked, handing Dean a t-shirt and sweats. "I got a couple of rib-eye steaks and potatoes when I stopped to get gas."

"Must have been one hell of a gas station," Dean said with a grin.

"It had a real grocery store. I got steaks, coke, potatoes, M&Ms…"

"Sounds like a feast. Can we have baked potatoes?" Dean pulled the t-shirt over his head with trembling hands and stopped, one arm partially through a sleeve. Sam pulled Dean's arm through and helped him with the other without commenting on it.

"The potatoes are already in the oven," he said, smiling as he helped Dean with the sweats. "They should be ready when the steaks are. I got salad too, and bleu cheese dressing."

Dean grinned. "Getting better and better." He took a deep breath. "Ready." Sam pulled Dean to his feet and helped him out into the main room, setting him down in one of the padded wingbacks drawn up to the small table. Dean was trembling, his eyes closed. "I might need something, Sam."

"Okay," Sam said, getting the pain pills out of the bag. Before they left the hospital, Dr. Bilagody made sure Sam had enough pain meds to get his brother through, whatever was going to happen. Sam looked at the pre-loaded syringes the doctor had given him for when things got too bad for the pills to handle. _I won't need them. I won't. We're solving this tomorrow. _He handed the pills to Dean with a smile and grabbed a coke out of the fridge.

"Thanks."

"Do you want the TV on?" Sam asked as he got the steaks out.

"No. After dinner can we sit on the patio?"

"We can have dinner out there, if you want. There's a table, chairs and a gas fireplace."

"Thanks." Dean leaned back in the chair. "Those steaks smell good, Sammy."

Dean was quiet as Sam finished making dinner. When Dean let out a small groan, Sam pulled the skillet off the burner and walked over, laying his hand on his brother's shoulder till the spasms passed. They didn't seem as bad as before, but Sam suspected they were far more painful than his brother let on. Dean had tears leaking out of his eyes when it finally ended. Sam patted Dean's shoulder gently and turned back to dinner, knowing Dean needed a moment to compose himself.

When the steaks were done, Sam carried their plates out to the patio and lit the fire. "You ready for food?" Dean nodded and Sam lifted his brother onto his feet. Dean let Sam pull his arm over his shoulder and help him out to the table. He sank down in the chair with a sigh.

"Dinner looks great, Sam, thanks." Dean smiled.

They talked about past hunts over dinner. Dean bringing up his Heather Hunt for the thousandth time, mentioning a particular Heather in Tucumcari. Sam smiled as his brother spoke, he took the plates in, grabbed the M&Ms and they sat and talked as the moon moved across the sky. Dean laughed when a bat swooped to catch bugs dancing in the patio light.

"Remember when you were six and didn't want to get your hair cut?" Dean said suddenly. "And dad told you if you didn't have short hair the bats would get caught in it?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I seem to remember you demonstrating, too."

"Yeah, I did," Dean chuckled.

"You should get some sleep."

The smile faded from Dean's face. "I don't want to."

"Dean…"

"I need to lay down, but I don't want to sleep. Not yet. I don't have much time left, Sammy. I don't want to waste what there is…" Dean looked at him. "Please?" he whispered.

"Hey, I got a deck of cards at the store too, want to see if you can win back some of your money?" Sam pulled Dean up, his brother fell against him. _Oh god, Dean. _Sam waited as Dean regained a little control, then helped him to the bed. "You're down about eight hundred thousand, I think."

"No, it's not that much. Last I remember I won back a hundred and seventy-five thousand at darts."

"Right," Sam said, getting the cards.

They'd been playing for three hours when Dean suddenly screamed, grabbing at his chest. "Dean!" Sam dropped his cards and reached across the bed to pull his brother against him. "Dean! What is it?"

"Chest, hurts," Dean got out, his breathing ragged. "Hurts. Oh god, oh no. Sam, a seizure." It was the worst one he'd had. Dean couldn't get a breath, he made chocking sounds as he clung to Sam, the spasms wracked his body. When it was finally over, he stayed with his head against Sam's shoulder. "Hurts," he sobbed.

"Hang on, Dean." Knowing what it took for Dean to admit that kind of pain, Sam reached for one of the syringes. He'd set a couple on the nightstand, just in case. "Give me your arm." The tremors still running through Dean's body slowly eased as the drug took affect. He let his head rest on Sam, breathing deeply. Finally he pushed himself away.

"Thank, Sammy," he said, sliding down in the bed. "I have to sleep." His words slurred together.

"I'll be right here."

"Good." Dean closed his eyes as Sam pulled the blankets over his brother.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed until Dean's breathing evened off. Once he was sure Dean was asleep, he went to the Impala and dug through the trunk looking for the iron sword Dean had purchased the year before. The doctor had told Sam bullets wouldn't work on the guardian of the spring, only iron. Sam sharpened the sword and looked at the map he'd picked up earlier. A "jeep trail" was the only way to the spring. Sam figured he could get the Impala most of the way to the spring. _We'll have to walk the last part. _A moan from the bed pulled his attention back to Dean. He walked over and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Dean?"

"I'm okay, Sammy," Dean answered automatically.

"Sure you are, do you need something for the pain?"

"Hmm?" Dean asked sleepily. "No, just a drink of water." Sam chuckled at the tone in his brother's voice, sounding just like a sleepy child.

"Here, Dean." Sam slid his hand behind Dean and held him up while Dean drank the water.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean sighed and dropped back to sleep.

Sam sank down on the other bed, his head in his hands. The stress of the last few days finally caught up with him. Tears ran down his cheeks. _Hang on, Dean, just a little longer. _The timetable from the article he'd read was burned into his brain, a clock ticking the seconds left of his brother's life. _If that doctor was right, Dean has less than a day. I have to get him moving as soon as there is enough light to drive. Oh god, less than a day. What do I do if I can't fix this? What will I do? _Sam got up, turned the coffeepot on and walked to the patio to watch the first sliver of light creep across the landscape.

"Sam?"

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, turning from the patio. He poured them both a cup of coffee and sat on the edge of Dean's bed. "How do you feel?" _Lie, Dean, pretend I can't see your hands shaking so badly you're splashing coffee on yourself._

"Feeling fine."

"We need to talk, Dean."

"Yeah, we do." Dean looked at him. "When it's over, after…Go to Bobby's, Sam. Don't be alone."

_If you're gone, Dean, I am alone. With Bobby, with Ellen, doesn't matter, I'm alone. _"Dean…"

"Don't hunt. Take it easy for awhile. You don't want to make any mistakes."

_No mistakes, Dean. I'll hunt, and when I die on the hunt…_ "Dean…"

"Take good care of the car."

"SHUT UP!" Sam shouted. Dean blinked. "Sorry, but you need to listen to me."

"Sam?"

"I talked to Dr. Bilagody. There might be a way to stop this."

"What?"

"He told me about a legend, a sacred spring, it will drive whatever did this to you out of your body."_ I know what you're going to say next._

"Why didn't you mention this before?" Dean frowned at him, searching his eyes. "Oh, hell no, Sam."

"What?"

"I know that look. What, Sam? How bad it is?"

"There's a guardian at the spring," Sam said. _Please understand, Dean._

"No, no way."

"Dean, please, I have to try."

"No, Sam, this isn't worth risking your life."

Sam looked at his brother. _What? Dean? What? Your life isn't work risking mine? Dean… _"I'm going to try, Dean."

"Sam, even if I thought this was a good idea—which I don't—how do we get there?"

"We drive as far as we can, then we walk the rest of the way," Sam said enthusiastically. _Yes, he listened. _

"Sam, I can't walk…I couldn't make it that far."

"Then I'll carry you," Sam said quietly, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

"No."

"What will you do, run away?" Sam snapped.

"Sam." Dean grabbed his arm. "Listen to me. This isn't worth your life. You'll make it fine."

"No," Sam whispered, trying to stop the words threatening to pour out his mouth. "No, Dean without you…what dad told you…I…"

"You aren't going to turn evil. No darkside for Sammy, got it?"

"How do you know? Without you here, how do you know?" Sam stood and paced away from the bed.

"Sammy?"

"Dean, without you to stop me, you don't understand. Once, when we were hunting together before I left for school, you were hurt. I thought you'd died, and I…the creature…I…Oh god, Dean." Sam looked at his hands.

"Sam? What?"

"You might be sure I won't turn evil, but I'm not." Sam turned towards Dean. "If you won't let me try this to save you, do it for me. For what I might become if you aren't there to stop me. Remember, you promised, Dean."

"That's damn dirty pool, Sam," Dean said, his eyes flashing angrily.

"Yeah." Sam looked at Dean, the tears running down his face. "Please, Dean."

Dean met his eyes and held them for a long moment, then cleared his throat. "Well, like you said, what can I do? Run away?"

"Thanks."

They were on the road fifteen minutes later. Sam carried Dean out, tucked a blanket around him, grabbed the sword and headed towards the jeep trail. He turned the Impala onto the narrow track, heading towards the red and black mountain in the distance.

"It looks like a freaking castle," Dean said.

"I thought that yesterday." Sam grabbed the wheel as the car hit a rut in the road and they were jerked to the left.

"You get a dent in this car and I swear I'll be back to haunt you," Dean said, his voice light. Sam could hear weakness, pain under the light tone. _Please don't die before I get you there, Dean, please._

"Shut up, Dean," Sam growled. Unwilling to play the "it's not funny, Dean" game with his brother just then.

"It's a little funny," Dean said with a smile.

"I didn't say…"

"I know. Painkillers are really fun, Sammy."

_Oh god, Dean. _"Yeah, I bet. Especially those."

"Oh hell, yeah, they really take the edge off," Dean chuckled.

"Do they?" Sam asked softly.

"No, not really," Dean answered in the same gentle tone. "Sam…"

"Hang on, Dean, just a little longer, it's not far now."

"I'm trying."

Sam pressed down on the accelerator, driving faster than was safe, but not caring. "Dean?"

"Still here."

Sam followed the narrow road to the edge of the mountain, passing a four-by-four at high speed. He smiled at the look of surprise on the driver's face as the Impala overtook the jeep. "Dean?"

"Here."

The road finally ran out. Sam parked the car in the shade of a cottonwood. _Good, that means water is close by. _"Dean?" Sam grabbed the sword out of the back seat. "Dean?" He shook his brother. "Dean!"

"Sm?"

"Come on, Dean, hang on a little longer." Sam ran around to the passenger door and pulled his brother out. Dean fell against him. "Dean? Can you walk at all?"

"Try," Dean said, leaning against Sam.

"Okay, here we go, I don't think it's far. I can smell water." Sam took his brother's weight and half-carried him up the path. Dean's feet started dragging. "Almost there, Dean." He looked around trying to locate the spring. _Please, please let it be here, please let this not be a wild goose chase. _"Dean?"

"Here. Not long."

"Hang on." Sam shifted more of Dean's weight onto himself. Trees were growing along the narrow path, juniper and pinon pine. "Dean?"

"Here."

"I think I see the spring," Sam said. "Dean?"

"Heard you."

The thing came out of nowhere, forming up in front of Sam, a dark void, pulling the light of the day into it. Cold, frigid cold, suddenly billowed over them. "I'm putting you down, Dean," Sam said urgently. He dropped his brother quickly, as gently as he could. The thing didn't wait, instead diving at them, its darkness flowed over Dean. Sam heard his brother scream. "NO!" Sam shouted, throwing himself at it, driving the sword into the shadow in front of him. His sword didn't come into contact with anything solid, a wisp of darkness curled away from it. The thing let out a hideous shriek and flowed away from Dean.

Before Sam could check on his brother, it was back, enveloping Sam in its icy darkness. Claws tore at Sam, he couldn't breathe at all, the breath left him, but he couldn't drag the icy air back into his lungs. He fell to his knees. It flowed off of him, turning towards Dean again, his brother screamed as it covered him. "Dean!" Sam forced himself up and dove at it, driving his sword through it again and again.

It shrieked, pulling away from Dean, stopping in front of Sam. It hovered in front of him. Dark tendrils reached out, digging at Sam. He swiped at them with the sword. The contact burned him. He could see black spots where it had touched him. He moved so he was standing over Dean, unsure if his brother was alive. "Dean?"

The thing flowed upwards, filling the air, pulling the light into itself, then drifted down. As it did it took on a form. Sam turned away from the horrific thing standing in front of him. His stomach rolled in protest as his heart accelerated. _Oh god, what is that? What the hell is that?? _Sam's hands were slick with sweat, fear making them tremble. He was terrified, the creature in front of him was like nothing he had ever seen, nothing he'd ever heard of, terror rooted him to the spot. _No, no. It doesn't get Dean. _

Sam closed his eyes as the thing approached him. He could smell it now, the scent of charred, rotten flesh washed over him. It stopped in front of him, the cold burning him through his clothes. He sensed its movement as it reached out for him. He held still. A clawed hand touched his face.

Sam struck. He opened his eyes and swung the sword towards what he hoped was its neck. Metal tore through flesh, the thing clawed at Sam as it was separated in two. With a shriek from the severed head, the thing disappeared in a _poof _of icy black smoke.

"Dean!" Sam dropped the sword and ran to his brother. "Dean? Come on." Nothing. Sam dragged his brother up and over his shoulder and ran towards the sound of running water. He wasn't sure Dean was breathing as they reached the spring. The water sparkled in the bright sun, burbling soft music as it ran over rocks. There was a pool nestled under a large rock. Sam slid Dean into the water. _Please, please, please._

Dean's body started convulsing the minute the water flowed over him. Steam rose from the pool, drifted off of Dean. Sam watched, waiting. _I killed him, I killed him._ He fought the urge to pull Dean out of the water.Tears ran down his face. Finally, the convulsions stopped, the hissing steam dissipated and Dean was motionless in the water. Sam dragged his brother out, desperately feeling for a pulse.

Nothing.

He watched, listening for a breath, his hand still resting against Dean's neck.

Nothing.

"No, Dean, please no," Sam sobbed as he pulled his brother's body into his arms. Rocking as the tears tore out of his body. "No. No. I'm so sorry, Dean, I'm so sorry." He couldn't breath, he felt like he was drowning in a sea of tears, of unending pain. _No, no, no, nonononononono. _A soft sound broke through his sobs, broke through his numb brain. He took a breath.

"Sam?" the sound said.

"Dean?" Sam pulled away and looked down as his brother opened his eyes. "Dean?"

"You okay?" Dean said, blinking.

"Dean?" Sam repeated, not believing his eyes. He pulled Dean against him in a tight hug. "Dean, you're alive!"

"I am if you don't suffocate me," Dean grumbled.

Sam's tears gave way to hysterical laughter. "Hey, man." He brushed the mixture of water and blood off his brother's face. "Hey." He smiled, knowing he wasn't fooling Dean at all. "We should go, I cut its head off, but it was screaming about it, and I'm not sure its all the way dead." He pulled Dean to his feet, dragged Dean's arm over his shoulders and started back down the road.

"Are you okay, Sammy?" Dean rasped.

"I am now."

The sun was setting over the mountain, bathing the landscape in a soft pink light. The day had cooled off, the breeze coming through the open patio door was warm, but without the scorching heat of the day. Sam woke up when the jets on the tub turned off. He ran a hand through his hair and considered turning them on one more time. _How long have I been in here? _He glanced out the door, Dean was stretched out in one of the chairs on the patio. Sam pulled himself out of the tub and carefully dried off. He looked at the burns the thing had left on his arms, and the cuts on his chest. He couldn't hide the burns. _But Dean doesn't need to know about the rest. _He dabbed antibiotic cream on the cuts, then pulled his t-shirt and sweats on.

Sam stopped by the fridge on the way to the patio and grabbed a couple beers. He wandered out and dropped down on the chair beside Dean. "Brought you a beer," Sam said.

"Thanks, Sammy." Dean opened his eyes and smiled at Sam. "I was thinking about getting one, but I couldn't motivate."

"Yeah." Sam ran his eyes over his brother, still worried that there was underlying, maybe even lasting, damage. Dean hadn't had a seizure since Sam pulled Dean out of the spring, but Sam knew his brother was still having difficulty walking and dizzy spells. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." Dean took a sip of the beer, looking out across the landscape. Sam noticed his brother's hands were still shaking.

"Dean?"

"I am better, Sam." Dean looked over at him, frowning at him. "What's wrong with your arms?"

"The guardian touched me, it burned me a little, but they don't hurt." Sam smiled.

"You're lying," Dean said, his voice concerned.

"They don't hurt much," Sam amended. "And we're well supplied with pain killers, any way."

"We are." Dean looked back at the mountain, fading to a shadow as the sun set. "You shouldn't have done it, Sam, you could have been killed."

"I might have been, but you _would_ have died."

"I can't have you…"

"What are you going to do, Dean? Lock me in my room? Ground me?" Sam smiled at Dean.

"I might." Dean frowned. "Sam…"

"Don't say it, Dean. It's over, I did it."

"You could have died."

"You would have been dead." _And Dean? If you die, I'm dead anyway. Maybe not right then, but soon. I…Someday Dean, I'll tell you. I'll tell you why I know that. _

Dean looked at him, Sam met his eyes. "I'm better, Sam, but…" Dean gave him a bleak look.

"Your body took a beating, Dean. It'll take a few days to recover. Do you need something for pain?" Sam noticed that since Dean's first sip, he hadn't had any more of the beer. "I'll be right back." Sam grabbed the bottle of pain killers and a coke. "Here."

Dean took the pills without comment and took a drink of coke. "Thanks." Dean sighed. "How long are we staying?"

"Till you're better, a week?" Sam grinned at the look of delight that crossed Dean's face.

"Can we afford it?"

Sam shrugged. "It's the off season." _I have a little money. Don't ask where it came from. _

Dean frowned at him for a minute, then smiled. "It's a nice room. Might as well try living in style."

"It's better than dying in style."

"Any day, Sammy, any day," Dean said, reaching for his coke with a shaking hand.

Sam leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out. The warmth from the fire was making him sleepy, the cuts the thing had given him stung as sweat ran into them. He looked over at Dean, his brother was looking back a him. "Yeah," Sam said softly.

"Yeah," Dean echoed.

_Amid the hope and worry, the fear and anger  
believe that each day that breaks is your last:  
the unhoped for hour will be a welcome surprise.  
--Horace_

_**The End**_


End file.
